Pocket Knife
by LittleSunset264
Summary: Tummi has a bad night and he's a mess. (One-Shot. Tw; self-harm and suicidal thoughts)


Tummi rolled over to his side.

He looked at his closed pocket knife despite the fact the main lights weren't on. His thumb rubbed back and forth on the side of it. It had been awhile since he cut himself, though that was mainly due to the fact that it was broken, which was good for his case. It wasn't something he should be doing anyways, that he knew, but he couldn't help but feel the urges to do so. Those of which he ended up giving into no matter what he was thinking to fight it.

As much as he wanted it to be fixed, deep down inside a tiny part of him hoped Gruffi would never get to it, especially since he hadn't done that for months until Gruffi did so just to get his vote on making a fence so the gummi berries weren't all gone for the winter. Now that it was fixed up, Tummi was here contemplating on what to do, whether he should do it again despite how bad it was or if he should try to stop entirely.

Tummi rolled up his left sleeve, revealing to be several areas on his arm covered with scars. They were months old by this point, none were fresh and new. Some were fading while others were staying. Nobody else knew about what he was doing to himself, which he felt was for the best. He didn't wish to be more of a liability to them, even if he knew that he wasn't a burden to them. Tummi didn't remember how or why it even began, just that he felt like he had to, that he _needed_ to.

He rolled his sleeve back down and held the pocket knife close to his chest. He closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths. The big gummi bear felt ready to cry, though he tried to resist. Tummi didn't want anybody who might walk by his room to hear him sobbing, or worse, asking him why he was crying. While it may not seem like it, he was good with excuses, especially when it came to this. He didn't know why they kept him, any of them, he felt like he wasn't the best of help. Maybe he should just get it done and over with, bleed out until he's no longer around for them to deal with.

He shook his head back and forth, no they needed him no matter what a major part of him was thinking. Tummi knew that they loved and cared about him, they all would miss him if he was permanently gone. Everything he did was to make sure they never knew how he was feeling, what he was going through, he didn't wish to bother them even when he knew for the most part he wouldn't be. It was a constant struggle and battle in his mind on how he felt. There were times where he wanted to give into some thoughts he had, but considering he had to look out for himself, he had to be his own ground to keep himself in check.

His eyes opened, looking down at the knife he had. Tummi removed it from his chest and put it close to his wrist. He opened it up, having the short blade out in the open. It was placed right above his wrist. His body shook from the hand that held the knife to the arm it was close to. It was a hellish temptation that one had to resist, yet he was coming close. This might as well just be a death wish that was begging to be granted. In the end, though, he turned it around then pulled his sleeve down once again. His left hand then became a fist that faced downwards. The fist then shook even harder with how tightly closed it was.

The blade had finally touched the surface of his body, pushing it down enough where it dug into his flesh. He pulled it into the opposite direction as he hissed in pain. Before one would know, the painful feeling soon ended and bits of it lingered as the red fluids came out of his body. Blood was going down in the direction of the bed. Quickly, he put the knife to the side where it didn't touch the bed and he slapped his hand onto where the blood was coming out of. He couldn't let it touch the bed sheets.

Tummi didn't know what he would have to say if Grammi noticed there was blood on the sheets. Saying it was food wouldn't be enough, there wasn't any that would be that red nor was it something that could go from red to brown after time passed like blood did. He kicked the blankets off and got out of bed. He went over to where he hid his secret stash of bandages and stuff to clean the blood up with. Tummi had to be sure he had stuff like that just for his self-inflicted wounds.

He wiped the blood off of his arm, making sure he could get all he could off. Once it was all wiped off enough, Tummi wrapped the bandages around his wound. One wrap around after another, when it was wrapped around the area good enough he tore it off with his teeth and fixed it up. He put away the bandages and grabbed the same tissues he used to clean up his arm to clean up the pocket knife. He checked the surface of where he put the pocket knife at to see if any blood got onto there.

Luckily, there was nothing else there so he was good for now.

Before he decided to go back to his bed, he went to get a quick snack. It was something he needed at the moment. When he grabbed the food, he immediately went back to his room. On the way back he ate the food, and still did when he went inside the bedroom. He got into bed and kept eating until it was all gone. He saw the bandages poking out and pulled his sleeve up more so it wouldn't show.

His hands went up to his face. It wasn't something he could hold in anymore as he began crying. Some of his tears went onto his hands, others went down to the side of his face and onto his pillows. He didn't know what to do at this point, he wasn't sure what thoughts he should listen to, he didn't know anything anymore.

All he knew was that he was a suicidal, bleeding mess who might cry himself to sleep.

* * *

A/N: The lack of self-control I have when it comes to torturing characters like this fff- I was just watching the Gummi Bears with my mom and on the episode that's referenced here where Gruffi gave him back the pocket knife, I thought it was kinda odd that Tummi had one. Everything else that was used to bribe him into voting for one or the other did, but the pocket knife? That made me think of something like this. I know there's a possible explanation for him having one that isn't this, but I dunno it's what I thought of right away while watching. I have to stop torturing these poor babies God damn it-


End file.
